Page:The Life of Benvenuto Cellini Vol 1.djvu/417

Rh having almost certain hope of my recovery. On this occasion he left the sonnet of Messer Benedetto Varchi, which runs as follows:

 Who shall, Mattio, yield our pain relief? Who shall forbid the sad expense of tears? Alas! 'tis true that in his youthful years Our friend hath flown, and left us here to grief.

He hath gone up to heaven, who was the chief Of men renowned in art's immortal spheres; Among the mighty dead he had no peers. Nor shall earth see his like, in my belief.

O gentle sprite! if love still sway the blest, Look down on him thou here didst love, and view These tears that mourn my loss, not thy great good.

There dost thou gaze on His beatitude Who made our universe, and findest true The form of Him thy skill for men expressed."

My sickness had been of such a very serious nature that it seemed impossible for me to fling it off. That worthy man Maestro Francesco da Norcia redoubled his efforts, and brought me every day fresh remedies, trying to restore strength to my miserable unstrung frame. Yet all these endeavours were apparently in sufficient to overcome the obstinacy of my